It’s kind of universally acknowledged that the “children’s play centre” is one of the biggest misnomers going around. I mean, how much time does the kid spend actually playing as opposed to requesting food, chucking tantrums or bleeding from an orifice?
We had the pleasure of party number 1,506 on the weekend for Jack, our seven year old. At the very same time, Maddison, my daughter, had also been invited to a party that started 30 minutes later, 30 minutes away. At the very same time as this, my husband was 100 kilometers away throwing a ball at a bat. So I was the parent that left her child at the party unattended and arrived back, 30 minutes before the party finished. Daggers. Oh yeah, I saw a few aimed my way. Luckily, one of his teachers was also there and was more than happy to keep an eye on him for me. She also informed me she’d only call if there was blood or a concussion.
Just as an FYI, you should know that this post is sponsored by CHUX. But all opinions expressed by the author are 100% authentic and written in their own words.
By this stage of the party, there had been both but thankfully, my child had not been involved in either. The day however, was still young. Yet by now, I’d been to enough of these things to know more than necessary about a children’s party.
And this much I did know:
I know there will be at least one musical instrument planted inside a party bag that will make me want to shove said musical instrument so far dispose of the mini piccolo/mini xylophone/ear-piercing-whistle the minute I get home. Basically, this is an inside parent joke that passive aggressively tells you, the attendees parent, to go and get rooted. I am trying to source mini bagpipes for Jack’s next birthday party.